Litigation
by redness
Summary: Even when you take the long way round you still get there in the end.


Litigation

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A/N: Thanks to Denise for a few pointers and the rather lovely people at Jackfic. But most of all I'm saying thanks to someone who wishes to be known only as Comrade D. Not only a delightful friend but a wonderful beta too. Oh and this is my first one.

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O'Neill cut the power to the engine and let the keys sit in the ignition, trying to steal one last minute for himself. He couldn't quite remember when coming back to the SGC and leaving Minnesota behind had gotten so hard. But it had.

He took another look out of the windshield trying to see past the concrete and fencing to the beauty beyond, even if nothing more than the rocks and trees that surrounded the facility were all the landscape had to offer. Anything to let him pretend; cling to the last precious moments of his down time.

Funny thing was, the wilderness that he loved so much, the trees that shielded him from the universe and everything in it while he was tucked away at his cabin by the lake, they were used to betray him in the end. Torn down and abused, daubed with ink and left on his desk in seemingly never-ending reams: Memos, staff evaluations, mission reports.

At the SGC he could no longer see the forest for the words.

Yeah. Funny.

Almost as big a laugh as him being the guy in charge; stuck behind a desk, weighed down by stars that rested on his shoulders heavier than any pack he'd ever carried.

General O'Neill.

He didn't know whether to drink a toast or drown his sorrows.

Managing the mountain and everybody in it? Jesus. What a job.

George Hammond had almost made it look easy.

If only.

He couldn't do Hammond's way. As much as he was capable of running the facility there was no way Jack could find being the head honcho anything less than a struggle. It was the separation that killed him. He had to pull back. Retreat behind a desk. And that left him a man removed from the things that he loved.

His passion, his team, his friends. All held at arms length for the greater good.

At least that's what he told himself. It was easier that way.

Jack grabbed his keys and stepped out of the truck, away from his peace and walked into another world

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This bit? It was the worst part of the day. That was for sure. Anticipation was a killer. Whether you were waiting for something good or bad, it didn't seem to matter. Just the waiting was enough. And until the elevator doors opened Walter was never sure which side of the coin his day would be starting on. Although sometimes he got the distinct impression that the coin was one of those trick double-sided things.

He rocked on his heels and savoured the warmth from the flask of coffee he was holding. The air con never _quite_ worked the way it should. Not that anyone would ever admit it. Oh no, not in this establishment. They were all much much too-

"General O'Neill!" The man had already made it past him before he'd even had a chance to speak. For an old man with knees that were bordering on a medical dismissal he could certainly move.

"Oh, you _were_ waiting for me." Jack had come to a stop in the middle of the corridor and turned back, brow already furrowed deeply. "I thought I'd escaped."

Walter gave what Jack thought of as a constipated smile back to him. "Yes sir…no. Uh you have a pretty full schedule General…"

All the way through the corridors Jack listened - swear to God he really did - as Walter stuck to his side running off the list of tasks that had been waiting for him.

"Doesn't someone cover all this," Jack threw his hands out, not too wildly, but enough to slosh his coffee "stuff while I'm gone?"

Walter side stepped a puddle and made a mental note tell a man with a mop. "Uh, yes sir, they do. But, well, as you know things can get pretty busy around here. And some things are 'eyes only'."

"Lucky me." Muttered Jack as he opened the door to his office. And stopped dead. "Are you _kidding_ me? I've been gone for five days! Where the hell did all this come from?"

Walter didn't like the look he was getting. Granted, he could understand it, seeing the stacked in tray and pile of manila files that were sitting on the General's desk, but he definitely didn't like it. It's not as if it was his fault. Whatever happened to not shooting the messenger? "As I explained sir…"

Jack held up a hand. "Ack! I don't want to hear it." He scrubbed the same hand through his short grey hair, letting out a long breath, thinking about what to do next. "I'm going to have breakfast." He said with a determined smile.

"I can have something brought up to you."

Now that was too keen. He didn't like it. "Is there something wrong Walter?"

"No," not _exactly_ a lie… "no, sir."

O'Neill didn't quite buy the denial. But his suspicions were overwhelmed by his desire to get the hell away from the paper jungle that was his office; not that there was too much of a battle. "So, there's nothing there," he pointed towards his desk "that will stop the world in its tracks if I have something to eat before I read it?"

Walter shook his head knowing there was no way he was winning this one. It was easier to let the General go. Maybe this would all be less painful on the second pass. Maybe he would even get him past the doorframe. Then, as he watched O'Neill walk away, a thought struck him.

"You could at least check over the memos sir!" He called out only to have Jack's hand automatically wave him down.

"_So_ not going to happen Walter!" Jack called out without even glancing backwards.

Well, at least Walter knew he had tried.

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Truth be told Jack didn't really want breakfast; he'd already grabbed a hotdog on the drive in to the mountain. Hardly healthy, he knew, and the small part of him that had kept an eye on the Generals he'd answered to over the years told Jack to keep the same eye on his waistline. But it was an easy excuse to trot out. He didn't want to be stuck behind a desk first thing in the morning. A quiet voice even dared to echo 'never' in his ear. He pushed that last thought awayand wondered where the best place to kill an hour or so would be.

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"What?" Carter hadn't meant to sound so pissed but he was standing there, just on the edge of her field of vision. Looking. Sure, the coffee was a great idea but wasn't he supposed to leave once it had been delivered? She could almost feel his eyes drilling into her. It made her neck itchy. She let her fingers fall away from her keyboard and spun her chair around to face him. "Are you just going to stare at me?"

"Sam…"

"Daniel…"

"You know he gets back today?"

No? Really? God Daniel you **are** a genius. She was about to suppress her inner sarcasm but the coffee had kicked in and the words travelled from the voice in her head to the voice in her throat before she had a chance to censor them.

Daniel moved closer and rested his butt against the edge of Sam's desk. He was letting that snipe go. Sam had been there for him often enough, this time round it was her turn to catch a break. He put a soft hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright."

She patted his hand. "Yeah." She said patronisingly. Alright. What the hell did that mean anyway? She wanted more than alright, she wanted happy. Was that too much to ask? Was she just supposed to accept that happiness was something Sam Carter only got to have in an alternate universe? God, she was jealous of herself. How screwed was that?

"Sam…"

"_Daniel_…" There was the same light-hearted warning she'd issued earlier.

He gave her shoulder a quick, affectionate squeeze before he took his hand away. "Are you going to be okay?"

Sam forced a smile. "Do I have a chance to be anything else?"

"How about happy?"

That earned him a rueful laugh. "Nice idea. I might even get there one day."

Daniel sighed and folded his arms around himself. "I'm not helping am I?" He said after what Carter could only surmise was careful consideration.

Slowly and with her first genuine smile in way too long, Carter shook her head. "Not so much." She admitted. "But I appreciate the effort."

"How about I go find someone else to annoy?"

To her own surprise Sam's smile stayed in place. Never underestimate the power of a good friend. But still… "Good idea."

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Back in the day, if Jack had wanted to let some time slip through his fingers he would have taken a walk down to see Daniel or Teal'c or, you know, the rest of the team. But that was a different era of the SGC and SG-1 while they were, strictly speaking, his team, they weren't _his_ team anymore. So he wandered down to the gym. May as well give some of his sluggish muscles a workout, lose a few hotdog pounds, vent some frustration on a punch bag. It wasn't as though he got to go out and kill the bad guys anymore. These days he didn't even get to maim anyone. The closest he got to actual combat was a fight with a stapler.

Jesus, he felt impotent.

You know, come to think of it, venting seemed like a really good idea.

It was only fair to Walter.

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"Oh. Hey. You're here."

Jack stopped thumping his fists into the bag to turn round. "You know, for a gifted linguist Daniel, sometimes you don't sound so gifted."

He nodded slowly, "Yeah." He left a beat. "So." And another one. "How was Minnesota?"

"Quiet."

"Uhhu." Daniel cast a glance to the tired looking bag Jack was working over again. It didn't bode well for his friend's mood… or the conversation he had in mind. "But not relaxing?"

"Minnesota was fine Daniel," left, left, cross "clear skies, blue water-"

"No fish?"

There was a flash of a grin. "Not one."

"So what's with the punch bag?" Daniel wasn't above doing some fishing of his own.

"Do I need a reason?"

He shrugged. Sam was so much easier to talk to. At least she was less confrontational. "You're the boss."

"Yeah. I am."

The subtle warning implicit in Jack's words didn't escape his friend. Sighing softly to himself, Daniel debated the wisdom of baiting his line again.

"Having regrets?" He asked.

Jack rattled off another combination with his fists, giving himself time to think. He wasn't sure whether he should have this conversation with Daniel. He wasn't sure if he should have this conversation with anyone on the base. But at least Daniel was a civilian and, more importantly, a friend. He'd kinda forgotten that. Jack sighed, walked over to the bench and sat his ass down. It was either Dr Jackson or Dr McKenzie.

The lesser of two evils sat down beside him.

Jack didn't move, just stared ahead. He could do the talking, the openness, sure he could. He just couldn't _face_ doing it.

"Oh you know me and regrets."

"Yeah." Daniel found himself mirroring the General's position; eyes front, elbows resting on his knees. "I'm pretty sure I do."

Jack fell silent and gazed at his feet. He needed new sneakers. That would be another requisition form. In triplicate. White copy for the number crunchers, pink copy for the stock room and there was a blue copy that went…somewhere else. He wiggled his toes, rippling the thin fabric around them. Maybe he'd just stick with the old ones until they were falling apart at the seams. Letting things go at the right time never was a strong point of his.

He raised his eyes up from the floor, turning his head to look at Daniel.

"I should have retired."

"When?"

"When I still had a chance of having a life outside this place." Damn it, it hurt just to say it.

"Something wrong with the life you have _inside_ the mountain?"

Jack gave him an 'are you serious' look. "I push paper."

"You're not thinking about quitting are you?"

Jack shrugged, not really registering the alarm in Daniel's voice. "I don't know. I just feel like something's missing."

"Maybe whatever you're missing is just waiting to be found."

"Have you been talking to Oma?"

It was Daniel's turn to throw out a look.

"Seriously." Jack continued. "She makes you sound weird."

"I thought we were talking about you?"

He buried his head in his hands, "Yeah we were, weren't we. I don't know Daniel," Jack rose to his feet. "I used to enjoy this."

"Risking your life, constantly fighting, being at war?"

"You know what I mean." Was all Jack softly said and Daniel quietly agreed with him. He knew what he meant, of course he did. But saying it out loud was another matter.

"Things **can** change Jack."

"Yeah, whatever." He was making his way out the door already. Maybe he couldn't really do this openness thing after all. Too many years of wall building. And pulling loose a brick or two was never going to be enough, not when they would just get replaced somewhere down the line. "Thanks Daniel." He added, his voice subdued once again.

OoO

Carter couldn't work out what was bugging her. But something was. It was derailing her train of thought and it was pissing her off. Absently she raised a hand up to her neck and rubbed a little patch of skin. And froze. Her 'O'Neill-sense' was tinglingSlowly she turned around, ignoring the waves rising in her stomach.

"Sir," she said rising to her feet. "sorry I didn't hear-"

Jack held up a hand to interrupt her. "I didn't want to disturb you." There was a frighteningly uncomfortable silence when he stopped talking so he started again. "But I guess I have now, so how you doing?"

Sam motioned back to her computer. "Same as always sir. How was-"

"Good. Quiet. Solitary." He almost felt like wincing. There was a peculiar emphasis on that last word and he wasn't sure how it had got there. It made him sound bitter and hard and he really didn't think he was anymore. Resigned. That's how he was. Just resigned. Que Sera Sera, wasn't that the song? "It's nice to get away from the rest of the world." He said pushing himself to sound softer, angry that he had to push himself at all when he was speaking to her.

Sam fiddled nervously with the ring on her finger and couldn't help but see how her C.O's eyes were drawn, however surreptitiously, to it. Quickly she clasped her hands behind her back. She'd heard the tone in his voice when he'd spoken about being alone at his cabin and the accusation it laid at her feet hadn't escaped her either.

"I'd like to get away from everything."

Jack saw the Carter façade slip as if it were a tangible solid thing Sam held up to shield her face. If he'd been angry with himself before he was down right pissed off now. He hadn't seen the tiredness in her eyes or the self-conscious way she was holding herself; it had all escaped him. Once upon a time he'd have known something was wrong the second he had stepped in the door. They'd made a good team and they'd been close. And now he was reduced to waiting for sledgehammer signs. He stepped towards her, trying to physically close the gulf that they had both allowed to open up between them.

"What's happened?"

She sat back down at her computer, avoiding his eye-line. His voice was so gentle when he'd asked. She didn't think she would be able to reign herself in if she saw that sentiment echoed in his eyes. Instead she fixed her eyes on the computer screen. "I don't suppose you get cable at your cabin?" She asked as she nudged the cursor across the screen.

He shrugged. **"**Don't suppose I do. With no TV and all**." **

"I guess I would know that if I'd ever visited with you." She said awkwardly.

Jack leaned both hands on Carter's desk and looked towards her. "Sam?" Saying her name felt like speaking a word from another language. "You want to tell me what the hell's wrong?"

A sudden burst of courage rose in her chest. It was that last moment of a jump. The instant you had stepped out of the plane and there was no going back and you were just falling through the air but everything was alright. It was all alright. And it didn't matter if the chute opened or you smashed into the ground, because it was out of your hands now, whatever was going to happen was going to happen; you'd already jumped out of the plane.

"I've made a big mistake." She said as she tapped a URL to the browser bar and hit enter.

Just for a moment he worried. Thoughts of an international or God forbid interstellar screw-up ran through his mind. Damn it, he should have read his fucking memos. Then rationale kicked in. It was Carter for God's sake. She didn't do mistakes, not the big ones. If it had been Felger he would have been worried. But Carter..? Jack looked at the computer screen.

CNN.

"So big it hit the news? Cause you know, if the world was about to end I'd get a phone call." He was scanning down the headlines looking for another little grey guy on the loose. "Shit." He stopped scanning and pointed at the screen. What the hell had happened to his phone call? "That it?"

Carter didn't need to look at the screen to know Jack had read the right one, not really. But that didn't stop her eyes following the line he had made with his arm all the way from his shoulder to the tip of his finger where it settled on the headline that was burning itself into the screen.

**Military Fraternisation regs 'abuse of human rights' court challenge**

"Yeah. That's it."

Jack stepped back, folded his arms the same way Daniel had earlier that day. It seemed that defence was universal and so very manly.

"You want to give me a summary of the details?"

She titled her head towards him and took a breath so deep it made her lungs feel like they could burst. "Two officers are legally challenging Air Force Instruction 36-2909 citing it as an infringement of their human rights as set down by articles 2 and 16 of the UN's universal declaration of human rights." She paused, caught her breath then added a quiet afterthought. "There was a memo."

"That's quite a summary." Jack swallowed hardand he found he couldn't quite meet Sam's eyes; something was so close he could almost taste it; maybe it was the fear building in his gut. He knew this was one of their 'moments'. Perhaps their last, if Pete had anything to do with it. But he'd been presented with an opportunity his military training could not ignore. "So what was the mistake?"

As Carter stood up her courage sat down and fear took its place by her side again. What the hell was she thinking? What the HELL was she thinking?! Of course it mattered if the chute stayed closed or opened when you pulled the rip cord. If it didn't open you were hurtling towards the ground without a God damn parachute!

"Sam?"

She looked at him, knowing she was doing a damn fine impression of a rabbit caught in headlights.

Screw it.

"Pete."

"What?"

"Pete was the mistake." She was fiddling with the ring around her finger again. "He doesn't know it yet." She sighed and sat on the edge of her desk. She was gripping the edge so tightly her knuckles were white. "Maybe he does, I don't know."

There were certain things that Jack remembered from being a married man. He remembered that no matter how much you wanted to punch the air and shout yes at the top of your voice the reason why you wanted to do it came first.

"Been a rough few days then huh?"

"Yeah."

Cautiously Jack placed his hand over Sam's. "It'll be alright, I promise."

She looked at him and raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "Really?"

"You want it in writing?"

She smiled, knowing that the rip cord had been pulled and she was floating down the Earth, bound for a happy landing. "How  
about a memo?"

- fin-

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End file.
